It Was Always Sammy
by Those Two Winchester Boys
Summary: Dean; 11, Sam; 7. Sammy's having nightmares. Not just regular everyday nightmares, though, and they don't know the cause or why it's happening. WARNING; weechesters, hurt!Dean, hurt!Sam, protective!John, abusive!John, Protective!Dean.
1. Chapter 1

It was the middle of the night and Sam had been tossing and turning. Dean lay still, listening to the rustling fabric beside him. He usually let Sam try and snap out of the nightmare before intervening. But most of the time, Sam never snapped out of it and back into sleep.

After about 5 minutes, the rustling got worse and Sam started to whimper, something he almost never did. Dean climbed out of his bed and went over to Sam's bed. He climbed onto the bed, sitting beside Sam. "Sammy." he whispered, lightly shaking his brother.

His brother let out a yelp at his brother's touch. Worry found it's way to Dean's face. He had never seen his brother react this way.

"Sammy, c'mon, kiddo, it's just a nightmare." Dean said more clearly, this time not touching Sam. Sam was covered in sweat, still whimpering, his face contorted with horror. Dean climbed out of Sam's bed, running to the kitchen.

He quickly, but too quickly, grabbed a glass from the cupboard of the kitchen, two other glasses smashing into shards on the ground next to him. He ignored them, filling the glass, laying it on the table and went into the bathroom. He grabbed a wash cloth and turned the faucet on, drenching the cloth in nice, cold water.

He ran back into the kitchen, avoiding the shards by inches and grabbed the water, rushing back into the brothers' room. Sam had tossed and turned so much that he was now on the floor. Dean quickly set down the glass and cloth and rushed over to Sam.

"Sammy!" He said quietly and picked up his brother. Sam's face went from a look or horror to a look of agony within seconds of Dean's touch. Sam writhed to get out of his brother's arms, kicking and flailing his arms about everywhere.

"Stop!" Sam screamed, still kicking at his brother. Dean was horror struck. He had never seen Sam act like this before. He put Sam back onto his bed and backed away from his brother. Sam was now breathing harder than Dean had ever seen him breathe.

He rushed back out into the kitchen, accidently stepping on the shards of glass. He ran across the glass, not caring but after, feeling the pain of the glass stuck in his feet. "Son of a bitch!" Dean screamed, tears stinging in his eyes. He put his hands on his knees and forced his eyes shut for a few moments before stepping onto more glass to get over to the phone.

He quickly dialed his father's number. After the first few rings, there was no answer.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut as he heard his brother in the other room, screaming in what sounded like agony, once again.

_Please pick up, Dad, please_, Dean thought.

At last, his father picked up. "Dean? Why are you up this late, you know your supposed to be in bed, young man." John said, a hint of tiredness in his voice. His father had left a few weeks ago on a new hunt. He was due back in the next few days, but that was never certain with John Winchester.

"Dad, Sammy's having a nightmare. But it's not one that's…it's real, dad. Whenever I touch him, he screams at me to stop like I'm causing him pain by touching him and he's still screaming and…" Dean trailed off, the pain in his feet aching and his mind being tormented by Sam's screams of agony.

John heard his son's voice and at once, knew that his son was not lying. Sometimes Dean would call, saying something was wrong, just to hear his father's voice or attempting to get his father home. His father usually fell for it, caving into Dean's sympathetic and sad voice, coming home early.

But John could hear Sam's screams in the back and he could hear his son's breathe, uneven and faster than he'd ever heard it before.

But he was 4 hours away and he knew there was nothing he could do to help his sons. "Dean, call pastor Jim, alright? I'm too far away, I can't help when I'm this far away, ok? Call me back as soon as you get a hold on Pastor Jim, got me?" John asked.

Dean took a few breathes before answering his father's orders. "Yes sir." Dean said, hanging up and dialing Pastor Jim's number as fast as he possibly could.

He picked up on the first ring. "Dean?" he asked once he picked up the phone.

"I need help, Sammy's having a nightmare but it's like…it's like it's real and dad told me to call you and…please get here!" Dean let out a cry.

"Calm down, kiddo, I'm on my way. Should only be a few minutes, alright?" The pastor said.

"Yes." Dean managed to choke out. Dean hung up the phone. Sam's petrified screams filled the room around him.

Dean couldn't handle it any longer. He curled up into a ball by the desk in their living room with his hands over his ears, squeezing his hands against his ears, trying to drown out Sam's screams. He began to cry, his shoulder shuddering up and down.

The phone rang as soon as Dean let out his first cry. Dean stared at the phone, knowing it was his father. But he ignored it, kicking the phone away. He cried as the phone rang a second time.

After 10 minutes, the phone rang once again. Dean thought about picking it up, but ignored it once again. The answering machine clicked on after a few rings. "Dean, im on my way home, and there will be punishment for not obeying my orders. You did not call me, and that was an order, young man." The answering machine beeped as John ended the message.

The phone rang once again, for a fourth time. Dean reached for the phone, this time, wanting to speak to his father. As he reached for the phone, trying not to press down on his foot, he stood, using the desk for support. He lightly stepped on his foot and more glass poked and prodded into his foot. He screamed as he fell and hit his head on the desk, falling toward unconsciousness.

**Authors Note; New story. Weecest. Yes, this is going to be a multi-chapter story, so, yes there is more to come. Hope you guys liked the first chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a very long day full of sermons and baptisms and Jim was ready to have a good night's rest.

As he lay in bed, he recited some of his bible quotes. Every night, Pastor Jim prayed before he went to sleep. It was his regular routine for the night.

As he was halfway through his prayer, the phone rang. He looked at the ID and saw that it was one of the Winchester boys. His brow furrowed in confusion. But he knew it had to have been Dean, seeing as it was almost one in the morning and Sammy was already supposed to be in bed.

"Dean?" he asked as he picked up the phone. He could hear raspy breathe. He was instantly worried about what was going on this late at night. He got out of bed, knowing he'd have to check something out.

Dean spluttered out words so fast the Jim had only caught that Dean needed help and something about a nightmare. Dean was breathing hard and Jim could hear pain in Dean's voice. He also heard screeching in the background. It had sounded like hell on the other side.

"Calm down, kiddo, I'm on my way." He said as he pulled on his shoes and grabbed his eyes. "Should only be a few minutes, alright?" Jim said as he stumbled out the door, barely locking it. He jumped into the car and heard Dean's faint assurance that he had heard the Pastor. He hung up his phone and stepped on the gas, worry drowning his face. He knew something was very wrong.

It had usually taken a half hour for him to get to the Winchester's household, but at the rate he was going, it would only take 15 to 20. After 10 minutes of continuous driving, he dialed John's number. He had wondered if Dean had called John beforehand.

After 5 rings, John picked up the phone. "Hello?" said a gruff voice. Jim instantly knew that John had been informed and was on his way home.

"Dean told you?" Jim asked, expectantly. He could no doubt, hear the engine of the Impala, roaring like he'd never heard before.

"Yes. I told him to call me after he got to you, but he never did. So, I got worried and I started home 20 minutes ago." John said in an angry voice. Jim knew that John was worried, although angry and his son for not obeying John's orders.

"How long do you think it'll take you to get home?" Jim asked, making a sharp turn. He was within 5 minutes of the house.

"If I can keep my speed where it's at, I should be there around 2 or 3." He said shortly. "Are you already there?" John asked. Worry had smoothed out his voice over the phone.

"Almost." Jim said. He heard John sigh. "As soon as I get the situation under control, I promise I will call you, John. I'm sure the boys are fine." Jim said soothingly. He knew that Dean and Sam were the most important thing left in John's life since Mary. "Thanks, Jim." he whispered.

The Pastor hung up the phone as he got to the house. He skidded to a stop in front of the house and jumped out as soon as it stopped.

As expected, the door was locked. Jim went into his pocket and dug for his spare paperclip. He found it and shoved it into the key hole. He got it unlocked in under 10 seconds. Oughta tell Dean to beat that one, Jim thought, smiling to himself.

He pushed the door open and was awe struck. He walked in further. The lights were all off, the faucet running, glass covered the floor, bloody footprints. He couldn't believe what he was witnessing. He had never seen the house so badly conditioned. He followed the foot prints and found Dean. He was layed down, his head under one of the desks, a pool of blood under his head, his body limp. Jim checked his pulse. He was still breathing, but unconscious. Jim picked up Dean's head, dragging the small boy out into the lighter area in the room to examine Dean more closely.

There was a gash above his left ear, no doubt fixable. He then look at Dean's foot. It was covered in shards of glass, many big pieces sticking out from his foot. Jim winced at how deep the glass was. He knew that Dean had tried walking on his foot.

He got up and went to the bathroom, grabbing a pillow and wash cloths on his way back. He still had to check on Sam. He put the damp wash cloths to Dean's head, covering the gash. He then carefully layed Dean's head on the pillow. "Be back in a few, Deano." He said quietly.

Jim looked around for Sam and saw the cracked open door of what was Sam and Dean's room. He rushed in, not knowing what to expect. He saw Sam, at peaceful sleep on his bed. Jim was confused. He walked slowly toward the small sleeping boy and put a hand on Sam's shoulder. Nothing.

"Sammy?" He said, shaking the small boys shoulder. Sam groaned but lay still.

"Sammy, you awake?" He shook the boy harder, trying to wake Sam. Sam's eyes opened slowly in confusion. "Pastor Jim?" he asked, confused.

He looked around his room. "Why am I-" Sam started, but Jim interrupted Sam.

"Dean said you were having a nightmare. He said every time he tried to touch you, you screamed?" He said, hesitantly. Recognition and realization began to show on Sam's small face.

"Sammy, what was your nightmare about?" Jim asked, but with expecting no answer. As expected Sam just looked at him.

"Where's Dean?" he asked, frightened. Jim picked Sam up carefully. "We have to patch him up, Sammy. He's pretty hurt. He had an accident." Jim said, not wanting Sam to think it was his fault. He carried Sam out to where Dean was still lying. He set Sam down next to Dean.

As he went to turn on the light, Sam had started poking at Dean.

"De?" he asked, poking his big brother's arm. Dean made no move or action to acknowledge Sam's words. "Why won't he answer me?" Sam asked, tears welling up in the small boy's eyes.

Pastor Jim's heart broke at Sam's look. "Like I said, Sammy, he's badly hurt. Wanna help me patch him up?" Jim asked. Sam shook his head furiously, taking no time for granted on helping his brother get better.

Jim took out his phone. "Keep an eye on Dean while I call John, ok, Sammy?" Pastor Jim asked, before advancing outside. "Ok." Sam said, grinning. He loved being the responsible one for once.

Jim walked onto the porch as he dialed John's number. After a half a ring, John picked the phone up. "How's everything?" John asked at once.

"Ok. Sam seemed fine but he was a little shaken when I woke him up. When I mentioned the part of him supposedly having a nightmare, there was definitely recognition in his eyes, but overall, I think he'll be fine, John." Jim said, pacing the length of the porch.

John let out a sigh of relief at the good news. "Wait…what about Dean?" John asked, suddenly alert. Jim hesitated before speaking for a moment. He had to tell John the truth, he knew that himself.

"Jim?" John asked, more urgent this time.

Jim sighed and sat on the porch step.

"When I came into the house, there was glass shattered all over the floor. And there was also bloody footprints, so I followed them out to where Dean was. It looks like he stepped on the glass while going to the phone. He was also lying on the floor unconscious. His head has a gash in it from where his head hit the desk in the living room. His head was under it." Jim said, tiredly.

There was a moment of silence in which Jim could here the engine of the Impala pushing even harder. "John?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, sorry." John muttered quietly, taking in Jim's words. "Is he alright?" John asked quietly.

"He hasn't woken yet, and the gash doesn't look deep, but his foot is going to be a problem. John, there's glass wedged into his foot. Pretty deep, too. I don't really want to pull it out now, because he's just so peacefully at sleep right now, but…I just don't know what I'm going to do." Jim said, running his hand through his hair, although not having much.

John hesitated for a moment. "Just try and use tweezers and pull the shards out as slowly as possible. I should be there, without any stops, in about an hour or so." John said.

"Alright." Jim said, nodding.

"Jim. Thanks for lookin' after my boys. Don't know what I'd do without ya." John sighed. Jim smiled, knowing this was a chick flick moment for him.

"Anytime, John. I better go. See ya in a few?" Jim asked.

"Yeah." John replied. Jim hung up the phone, standing and moving his way to the door.

Nearby rustling caught his attention. He turned his head, looking toward where he thought he saw the noise coming from. He saw nothing, but saw slight movement in the trees. The light on the porch started to flicker slightly. Jim's eyes went wide as he realized what he was seeing. He rushed into the house, slamming the door shut.

He was glad to see Sam still crouched by Dean poking him.

He smiled. "How long you been at that Sammy?"

**Very Important Author's Note; **Some people, on my other story didn't love the epilogue. I'm really sorry for that. I take a creative writing class in school, and had to go back because i was failing because we had a final in that as well as my other core classes. In our school for creative writing, you tell the teachers you write fan fiction, your set on what your working on in class for the whole year. My teacher grades us on out stories or the criteria. Went back for a day to get extra credit. She asked me what i was currently writing and i showed her, she read it and suggested for extra credit, i write an epilogue. Yes, my teacher told me for my extra credit, to write an epilogue to a personal, at home thing. So, i did. She didn't like it, threw it away, told me to do it over. Did it three other times, she finally liked it when i added death in. I looked at her and just shook my head. To me, it sucked ass. But i posted it because she needed it posted in order to have it officially graded? Yeah, ok, chick. I'm extremely sorry for the epilogue crap. I might delete the one i have up and re-write it, because as well as some others, i hated it.

p.s. - There will **NOT** be death in this fic, 100% guaranteed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry i took a while, its summer and what not and i've been out a lot, and i wrote this at a friends house while she was sleeping because i was bored lol. just transfered it from my notebook to the computer, soo here it is.**

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After what seemed like hours of pulling glass out of Dean's small foot, there were still tiny pricks of glass wedged all the way in that Jim could not get at them. He knew that he and John would need to take Dean to the hospital soon.

Sam had fallen asleep after helping patch up Dean's head, falling asleep beside Dean's motionless body. He hadn't dared to move Dean, not knowing, if he had woken Dean, how badly in pain he would be.

He put the last few pieces of glass in the tiny bowl he had gotten out and inspected Dean's foot. There was still blood gushing from some spots on his foot. He put down Dean's foot carefully, picking up the bowl and throwing the bowl away, seeing as it was stained with Dean's blood. He washed his hands quietly and put the tweezers away.

As he was cleaning some of the glass from the floor, he heard the Impala's engine coming up the drive, and a door slamming. He rushed over to the door before John could burst in and wake his children. He opened the door and was looking at a disheveled and worried John Winchester, rushing up onto the porch.

"John, calm down, you'll wake them. They're both fine." he whispered, door open for John. John stopped at the door, catching his breathe. He had been holding it the last few seconds of the drive home, not knowing what he would see at home.

Jim walked in ahead of John and John followed. "Sam fell asleep while helping me deal with Dean's head, and I didn't want to move Dean because he'll be in a whole boat of pain when he wakes." Jim said, grabbing the broom by the door and sweeping the glass up, as quickly as he could.

John nodded, relief flowing through him as he knew his boys were alive and, in Sam's case, well. John kicked off his boots as quietly as he could and took off his leather jacket and draped it over the counter. He walked over to Dean, picking the small child up into his arms and setting him on the couch. After, he picked up Sam and set Sam opposite side of Dean on the couch, their feet barely touching.

John went over to Jim, helping his throw away what glass was left on the floor.

"So, what all happened here?" John asked, scooping up handfuls of glass, not once getting himself cut. He'd handled glass before and knew how to pick it up without harm.

"I'm not sure. We'll have to ask Dean when he's awake and ready to talk." Jim said. "But I do have a theory on Sam's nightmare." Jim said, standing up after bending and throwing away the last of the glass. John stood as well, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Jim walked into Dean's bedroom, spotting John's notebook by his laptop. Dean usually had spent every night studying what his father had written in his notebook, memorizing it cover to cover. Jim pulled out one of the kitchen table's chairs and sat, motioning with his finger for John to sit as he sifted through the familiar old pages until he found what he was looking for. John just took his seat, staring at Jim, his brow still furrowed in confusion. He turned the notebook to face John and he pointed to the center of the page.

"Demons." Jim said. John stared at the writing in his notebook, skimming for anything that mentioned nightmares or dreams and when he found nothing returned his look to Jim. "You think demons gave Sammy these nightmares?" John asked.

Jim shrugged, both elbows on the table. "Dean said the nightmare was like it was real. And judging from the screams and shrieks I heard in the background on the phone, I'd say whatever is doing this, the demon, that is doing this, is making Sam's dreams as vivid and real and feeling as real life. Reality." Jim said.

John was still confused. "Wouldn't some other essence, say, a djinn, do that, if anything?" John asked. Jim shook his head. "They have to have touched the aimed target and also, Sam would be rotting in a dark and secluded area right now if this thing were perhaps a djinn." Jim said.

John contemplated Jim's words for a moment. "Alright, say this…thing, demon, could turn Sam's nightmare so that it took place in reality, then…why? Why Sam?" John asked.

Jim shrugged again. "I don't know, Johnny. But I'll bet you .45, that a demon is controlling Sam's nightmares." Jim said. John stared at him, his head cocked slightly, squinting in confusion. "Demons don't have that much power besides reeking havoc and-" John was cut off by Jim. "But there are more powerful demons in the world that just the average 'kill 'em with holy water' or exorcism. There's darker magic with demons in this world, John, you of all people should know that."

John thought for a moment before responding.

"But how can you be so sure about this demon stuff, Jim? If there truly was a demon here-" John was cut off by Jim.

"We would see signs. Right? Well, I heard rustling in the bushes after talking to you outside and the lights began to flicker. All the signs, John." Jim said. John sat back, sighing. He put hands behind his head, supporting all his head weight in his hands, trying to relax and stretch. "Why Sammy, then?" John asked quietly, giving in to the fact that a much more powerful demon had caused this, although not wanting to.

Jim raised his furrowed eyebrows shaking his head. "That's the confusing part to me." Jim said. Jim and John sat in silence, both of them thinking of different possibilities. John heard the rustling of the cushions on the couch and looked over to his boys.

Dean had a fist full of the couch cushion, his knuckles turning white at how hard he was gripping it. He was sweating and pale. "No…" he whimpered. John rushed over to Dean's side, shaking his son. "Dean, can you hear me?" John said loudly. "Not Sammy…" he whimpered again, ignoring his father's question. Jim joined John beside Dean.

John took Dean's shoulders and shook Dean harder, Dean's head lolling back and forth like a rag doll's. After a second, Dean let out a petrified scream, grabbing the cushions with all the force he had and writhing as if in pain.

John held down Dean's shoulders while Jim held his feet down, trying to get Dean's feet far enough from Sam's as to not wake him up. Dean's scream had made Sam stir, but only slightly. Dean was writhing in relentless shudders and muscle spasms, John and Jim almost not being able to hold the young boy down. After a few seconds of stillness, he woke with a start, his eyes wide, sweat beading down his face, and panting.

He looked around the room as if confused by his whereabouts.

"Dean?" John let out, a little harsher than necessary. John shook his head. _Dammit, John, calm yourself_, John thought "Dean, can you hear me?" John said, softening his voice this time, gripping his son's shoulders lightly. Dean turned his wide eyes on John and clenched his eyes shut as he felt the pain of his head coming back from the fall on the table.

As he clenched his eyes, waiting for the pain to ease, he fell toward an uneasy unconsciousness, the pain never easing until he was under.

The last thing remembered was his father's touch on his shoulders, the touch slowly fading as well as his father's face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Wasn't going to write about Dean's nightmare that he has after John and Jim wake him for a few seconds, but some wanted it so.**

**Writers block legit sucks. I spent hours trying different formats for the nightmare but they all seemed lame, but i finally think i did this one right..hopefully. And remember, this is Dean's **NIGHTMARE

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Dean felt cold, isolated, and alone. He resisted the urge to open his eyes as he felt the hard surface under him. He knew instantly that he was having a nightmare once again. He lay on the hard surface, his stomach toward the ground, his arms and legs flailed ever which way. He wished to be back home, where he was not a minute ago. Even a worried John and Jim was better than the pain and coldness Dean felt.

After a few minutes, he knew he could no longer lie there and do nothing. The coldness was now to the point where his fingers were getting numb. He brought in his arms and legs, slowly lifting himself to his feet. Once on his feet, he swayed, unstable. He clenched his eyes shut, forcing the dizziness to go away. He was having withdraws and after-pains from his last horror he woke to.

He opened his eyes after a few seconds, taking in the room around him. He was in an old school house is what it had seemed like, although without desks and other materials, it couldn't fit many people in it. There were small and stout tables stationed at either side of Dean, the door located behind him, small windows at each wall, and in front of him, a chalk board.

Dean turned to look at the window to his left, hesitantly moving toward it with small steps, brushing the musty cob webs out of the way with the sleeve of his shirt. He looked out the window and saw a few stout house-looking buildings no bigger than the room he occupied surrounding the school house. But he couldn't see farther than one building, due to fog lining the building. It had looked like a scene from some of the video games other children always ranted on about playing; cold, foggy, and somewhat a war zone.

He turned from the window and gave the room another once over and glanced down at his own body. His long wool sweater was covered in dust. He scowled. He began to beat the sweater softly, ridding the sweater of the dust. It was the sweater that Sam had used his money to buy him for his previous birthday. It was his favorite. He had almost all of the dust off, when he heard a raspy and familiar chuckle echo throughout the room.

Fear instantly engulfed Dean as he stared at his sweater, stopping his hand, knowing who the raspy laugh belonged to. He looked up, eyes wide and alert. He scanned the room around him until his eyes stopped on the chalk board. What had been a blank and useless chalk board was now the exact opposite. Written in white chalk, the board read "SAMMY'S MINE". Dean backed away from the chalk board, eyes wide, staring in horror at the words, and stopped when he hit the corner farthest away from the door.

Dean slid down the wall until he was sitting in the corner, wrapped his hands around his knees and buried his face into his knees. He began silently to pray, wanting to be woken. He had hated to admit, not only to others, but to himself, that he was terrified. After a few minutes of nothing, Dean lifted his fear stricken face and scanned the room once more, seeing nothing had changed and no one around.

He unwound his arms from his knees, placing his finger tips to the wooden floor, and slowly lifting himself with his fingers. He again gave the room a once over. Still, nothing had changed. He knew he had to do something. He was scared and needed to find an escape. He walked to the door slowly, reaching his hand out and slowly putting his hand on the door knob. He felt the handle, and yelped, pulling back his burning hand. The door knob had felt like it was on fire for hours.

Holding his hand, he backed away toward the chalk board. He clenched his eyes shut, forcing the fear in his eyes and mind away like his father taught him. Meditation was not always Dean's thing, but he had Sammy do it once or twice, successfully calming himself at the worst of times.

"Hello, Dean." He heard a raspy and familiar voice say. His eyes flew open, and he found himself looking at his worst nightmare - literally. He had seen the man not even 20 minutes before. The man he'd seen the night before, same overcoat, shirt, and same glowing eyes, was smiling at Dean with his glowing eyes. Dean hadn't known who the guy was still, although having an encounter with him before, but only knowing he was a demon of some sort. What made the man different was his glowing eyes. They weren't a usual demon's eyes. They glowed fiery yellow. And that was what scared Dean most.

Dean stared at the man and remembered their first encounter. It had taken place in a chamber like place. Dean was chained up against a metal pentagram. The man had told Dean that he was going to take his little brother away from Dean and Dean had responded, shouting at the man in anger at how the man said that his little brother would someday become the cause of the end of the world. Soon after, he had told Dean that one day, he would turn into a monster, and that was why he was chained up like a rabid animal.

Dean hated the man so much that he had ended up spitting in his face, seeing as he could take no physical action toward him. The man responded with a sneer and had unchained Dean. After he had unchained Dean, Dean was flung into the wall across the room, and stopped when he was backed against the wall. After, he felt a searing pain in the pit of his stomach, and felt his energy being drained from him. That was when Dean had awoken to his father and Jim shaking him and trying to get Dean to wake from his trance.

Dean was pulled out of his memory by the man's cruel laugh. "I see you can remember our last encounter?" he asked, smiling at the young boy. Dean turned his eyes back to the man's eyes and was awe struck at how the man had known that. He couldn't speak, still in shock. He just stared into the man's fiery yellow eyes, not able to look away.

He finally unlocked his eyes from the yellow eyes and looked down, clearing his throat. "What do you want?" Dean tried to sound vicious and ferocious but it came out in a whisper rather than an overpowering and determined voice. He wanted to kick himself in the ass for being a baby. The man laughed again, his eyes burning even more yellow and fiery as he laughed.

"Dean, you know what I want. Your little Sammy. He-" the man broke off mid-sentence, walking over to the chalk board and pointing at it. "-is mine." he said with a smile. Dean had another flash of the last time the man had sneered the words, as if determined to take Sam if it was the last thing he did. Dean was engulfed with anger at the memory. He hated the man for not only wanting to take away his little brother, but appearing in his nightmares, seemingly controlling them.

"Your not gonna take Sammy, you son of a bitch!" He yelled, anger overtaking him. But that made the man chuckle even more. Dean was seething with rage. He hated how the man was a smart ass. "What the hell is so funny? Huh?" he screamed. He didn't care if he was yelling that right at Jim and John at this point, not caring whether his dad heard the foul language that Dean used. Usually, Dean would have punishments for swearing. But he didn't care anymore.

The man stopped laughing, seeing how much anger the little boy had. He bent down to Dean's height so he and Dean were face to face, his yellow eyes boring into Dean. Dean was once again locked in his gaze, the fiery yellow eyes putting him in a trance. He grabbed Dean's biceps, squeezing until he could feel the pulse in Dean's blood stream beating. Dean whimpered in pain, but kept his anger filled eyes locked on the son of a bitch. "Sammy is mine, Dean. He's going to be the leader of the end of the world, and I intend to help him, whether you like it-" the man gripped Dean's arms so tight, that tears sprung in his eyes. "-or not."

The yellow eyed man released Dean, causing Dean to gasp in pain and relief. He stood up to his full height at smiled mockingly at Dean.

The man suddenly vanished. Dean was once again alone and terrified. He tried yelling out to the sick son of a bitch with the yellow eyes to come back and face Dean like a man, although Dean was glad the man was gone. But all that came out was a whimper. Dean couldn't accept that he was scared, so he straightened up and told himself to stop being a baby.

He took a few deep breathes, but before he could even think to open his eyes, he was flung at the wall again, exactly as he had been in his last encounter with the yellow eyed man. He opened his eyes but saw no one and nothing change.

A raspy laugh echo'd throughout the room again as before, and suddenly, Dean felt the same sharp pain, not in his stomach, but in his head. It was worse than a migrane. Dean tried to flail his arms but he was pinned there like a wild animal. He was helpless. As the searing pain withheld, after a few minutes, Dean stopped trying and his body, blood seething from his mouth, pinned to the wall, became lifeless and still.


	5. Chapter 5

**So, as some of my IG & Tumblr followers know, my internet timed out for a few weeks, so i was unable to upload stuff. Which really pissed me off. I'm so sorry about the late update. Another chapter should be uploaded in a few hours. And yes, i know this chapter isn't at it's greatest and it's slow but i had to get something up soon do to people asking where i've been.**

* * *

John watched as his oldest son fell toward an unconscious state. He shook Dean again, not willing to let him fall asleep again and have another nightmare. "Dean!" he said, a little too loudly, making Sam stir again. Jim put a hand on John's shoulder. "John, let him rest." he said softly.

John looked back at Jim, looking at him as if he'd spoken an unknown language. "I'm not letting him have another damned nightmare like that again, Jim." he growled at him, glaring at his friend. Jim sighed, keeping his hand on John's shoulder. "You don't know if he's having another one, John. Maybe he's just sleeping. Normally." he emphasized the word. John took a few deep breaths.

He stiffened, getting up from his crouched position next to his son, Jim letting go of his shoulder and rising with him. John turned to face Jim. "About this demon…you think it could render fantasy with reality?" he asked, locking his eyes with Jim's. Jim stared at his friend for a moment, contemplating what to say.

"I do believe so." he sighed. He unlocked his eyes from John's and walked past John, brushing his shoulder lightly. John turned with a confused look on his face as his friend headed toward Dean & Sammy's room. Jim disappeared into the room for a few seconds, coming back out with the familiar laptop.

Jim sat in the chair and set the laptop down on the table they were sitting at before, opening the computer and turning the power on. John looked back at Dean for a second, hesitating before taking a seat across from Jim. Jim glanced up at John, keeping his head leveled to the laptop and eyeing John carefully. "John, maybe you should get some sleep." he said, noticing the bags under John's eyes.

John sat and ran his hands through his hair, and leaning against his hand, propping his head up. "And you should stop praying to something that doesn't pay attention." he sighed, yawning. Jim rolled his eyes.

He hated how John had to faith in god and didn't believe in god. He had, on many occasions, tried to get John and the boys to pray and teach them about god. Sammy was usually the only one absorbed by what Jim ever said, although, when Dean & Jim were alone, Dean often asked more questions about faith in religion and god, which made Jim smile, seeing the boy had actually paid attention.

The chime of the computer turning on pulled Jim out of his thoughts. He glanced up at John and saw the elder Winchester's eyes closed, his breathe becoming steady. He smiled, glad that John would actually get some rest. He turned his attention to the computer, opening the internet, ready to do research about their current situation. He was about to type into the search bar when he heard a small voice whispering from the couch. He ripped his eyes up and looked at Dean, who had broken into a cold sweat and was sickly pale. He got up quickly, crouching beside the couch next to Dean.

"Dean? Deano, you awake?" he asked gently, not sure whether to touch him, seeing as from Dean's words, when Dean touched Sammy, he had broken into shrill cries of pain. Dean had once again gripped the couch in a stone grip and was still whispering. Jim placed his hand lightly on Dean's shoulder and, seeing that it had no effect on the young boy, shook Dean slightly. "Deano?" he said as Dean laid still, the whispering ceasing. After a minute, Jim stood silently, taking out his phone and dialing the familiar number he'd memorized for years.

On the third ring, he picked up. "Pastor?" he said. There was very loud music in the background and he could hear pools of voices shouting and talking behind the music.

"Caleb, I need your help on something." he said, trying to cut to the point. He rolled his eyes as he heard Caleb yell that he'd be back to a few of what sounded like his friends.

"Order me another while your at it, ok?" Caleb called back to his friend Josh. Josh laughed in response and slammed money down on the table, ordering Caleb another shot of whiskey. Caleb laughed before exiting out to the alley way from the back door. As soon as he got out, he zipped up his thin sweatshirt and pulled up his hood.

He looked down at the apparel he was wearing and chuckled. Shorts, thin sweatshirt, beanie, and to top it off, he had sandals on.

"Ok, what's this about?" he said, the line going clearer as Jim heard Caleb exit whatever place he was in. Jim's brow furrowed in confusion. "Where are you this late at night?" he asked. Caleb laughed, watching as smoke enveloped from his mouth from the cold night.

"Just out havin a few drinks, boss. Remember, I'm an adult, Jim, I can look after myself." he said, rolling his eyes from the other line. "Anyway, what ya need?" Caleb asked, focusing on what Jim had called for.

Jim cleared his throat, trying to think of how to word it. "Caleb, you've heard of darker magic in demons, right? I mean, I know I've taught you some things around the edges, but I also know you've had some other training and teaching in it as well." he started off. Caleb contemplated his answer before speaking.

"Yep. Nasty sons of bitches if your on the wrong end of 'em." he said, chuckling, trying to lighten the air between the lines. The tone in Jim's voice had been urgent and full of anxiousness as well as worry. Caleb's brow furrowed in confusion at the thought of it. "Why? You dealin' with some darker stuff?" he asked, worry creeping into his system. He placed his hand in his sweatshirt pocket and looked down at his sandals, kicking them on and off, trying to busy himself.

"Not me." he said, not sure how else to respond. Caleb stopped kicking his shoe on and off and stopped for a moment, thinking. He wracked his brain for possible people that darker stuff had often managed to find it's peak at and froze completely, the air in his lungs going cold.

"John & the boys?" he asked hesitantly. Jim sighed.

"Yeah. Dean cal-" Jim started but was cut off by Caleb. "Is Deuce alright?" he asked, worry engulfing him. Jim sighed again. Caleb had loved the hell out of Dean and Sam ever since they met, him and Dean always pranking each other and having contests on picking locks. He started to call Dean 'Deuce' after a while for a reason that Pastor Jim didn't know. Caleb and Sam would often hang out together and try to prank Dean and catch him off guard and whenever Dean was sick or away, Caleb would read Sam bedtime stories. Caleb often made life better for the boys when at Pastor Jim's.

Jim tried to say things in a way that would make Caleb reassured that everything was alright.

"Just let me finish. Dean called about a few hours ago about Sammy having a nightmare. Vivid, I mean, every time Dean would touch him, it's like he was causing him pain. And I arrived and Dean was unconscious and…well, to the point, these nightmares. Dean had one not even an hour ago, woke up, and fell back asleep, and he's starting to whisper in his sleep and I think he's having another one." he finished quietly. Jim had been pacing slowly, trying to occupy himself.

Caleb stood outside frozen, taking in Jim's words. He'd heard of vivid nightmares, but never ones that had a kid screaming whenever someone in the real world touched him. Jim cleared his throat to speak again. "Do you know of any demonic…thing, or supposed demon that could do this?" he asked, rubbing his temple. He glanced at John who was now lightly snoring and then glanced at Dean, who had a handful of the couch again and was tensed.

He walked over to the side of the couch and crouched down next to Dean's tensed body and laid a reassuring hand on Dean's arm. He felt Dean tense even more and his skin turned fiery hot at Jim's touch. His brow furrowed in confusion.

Meanwhile, Caleb wracked his brain of any knowledge he had of the demonic things that would possibly want to do that to the Winchesters but also had the power to. He had seen many nasty sons of bitches throughout his whole life in hunting. He rubbed at his forehead, trying to clear his mind enough to process his thoughts and stopped rubbing his head as another thought occurred to him.

"Jim, that demon that John's hunting…do you think he could be behind this?" Caleb said hesitantly. Jim was squeezing Dean's arm reassuringly but stopped at Caleb's words. He stared at the small, panting boy on the couch as he thought of the possibility. The thing had enough power in him to kill Mary in a way most demons couldn't. And the fact that this demon had a number on the Winchesters didn't help much at all.

Caleb heard no response from the other line and started to panic that he'd said the wrong thing. He cleared his throat silently. "Sorry, it's just a thought that kinda popped into my head." he said quietly. Jim heard Caleb's words and instantly felt guilty. "No, don't be, I was just thinking of the possibility. And yeah, you may actually be right, Caleb." he said quietly, as to not wake Dean or John. Dean whimpered again and had started to sweat again, his breaths coming and going as if he were panting.

Caleb sighed in relief as he heard Jim say how he had said the right thing, but hated how he may have been right about the whole demon incident. He rubbed at his forehead again as he heard Jim's attempt at waking Dean from the other line.

He was about to tell Jim he'd call him later seeing as he was starting to get colder, but stopped when he heard a blood curling scream from the other line.


	6. Chapter 6

**Internet acted up this morning but thank god it finally uploaded. Story is still going slow but WILL be sped up. Didn't want to do separate chapters for perspectives, so i'm sorry if the perspective changes are a little weird. I'm only good at chaptering them with different perspectives.**

* * *

Caleb heard the blood curling scream and immediately dropped his phone, pulled out his keys and ran to his car. Once inside the car, he turned the key in the ignition and backed out, the tires squealing against the black pavement. He looked at the dash in his car and cursed under his breathe. It would take him a half hour at least to get to the Winchester's. He hadn't known if they were at the Winchester household, but hearing the scream, he knew it was Dean and was willing to take a wild guess.

Hearing the scream echo in his head, he pressed the gas down harder.

John was woken sharply by a blood curling scream. His face almost colliding with the table, he stood, confused to what was going on until the past hour registered into his mind and he turned sharply, seeing Jim holding Dean down by his arms and Sam on the end of the couch, his arms wrapped around his knees and his eyes glistening with tears. Jim was cooing at Dean to calm down, but to no avail, Dean kept pushing against the couch, trying to flail his arms that were held down by Jim.

John stumbled down to the couch and immediately put a reassuring hand on Dean's forehead. His forehead was burning with fever and sweat. After a moment, Dean calmed, his breathe steadying and his body untensing.

John then looked back at his youngest, tears trailing down his face. Sam glanced at his dad with big, brown eyes. "What's wrong with De?" he choked out, staring into his father's eyes. His father took his hand off of Dean's forehead and stood, picking Sam up into his arms, Sam unraveling out of the small ball he was formed into, wrapping his arms around John's neck.

"He's just having a nightmare, Sammy, that's all." he said, stroking Sam's hair and holding him to his chest. Sam put his head in the crook of John's neck and let the tears fall, the scream echoing in his head. He'd never heard or seen Dean in so much pain and by far had never heard him scream. It scared him, knowing that something was seriously wrong with his big brother.

As he held Sam in his arms, Sam slowly drifting, he glanced at his eldest son who was now breathing steady breaths. Jim was still crouched beside the couch and was checking again on Dean. Observing that he had finally stopped shaking, he slowly stood, keeping his eyes on Dean as he went for his cell phone that he had dropped after hearing Dean scream.

"Caleb, you there?" he said into the phone, still looking at Dean. John had gone into his son's room and was tucking Sam in, seeing as he had fully drifted off to sleep, exhaustion settling in after the day's events. Jim heard no response from the other line, only cars passing by. _Crap_, Jim thought.

He hung up the phone, not knowing what to do, wanting to somehow reach Caleb but not knowing how, considering he had probably dropped it and left it, leaving. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. John walked back into the room and looked at Dean again. "Jim, we should wake him up." he said hesitantly. He hadn't wanted to bother his son's sleep, but was not ready to let his son have another nightmare.

Jim turned and looked at John. He was disheveled, had bags under his eyes, and looked exhausted. Jim hesitated for a moment before speaking, but before he could, someone banged on the door. Jim jumped slightly but heard the familiar voice calling into Jim. He went over to the door. "Caleb, that you?" he called out with his hand on the knob. He wasn't going to take any chances.

"Yeah." he heard the familiar voice call through the door. Sighing in relief, he unlocked the door and opened it slightly, blocking Caleb's way before he could barge in. "Listen-" he started, trying to explain but was cut off. "Where's Deuce?" he asked, trying to look through to the room past Jim. Jim sighed and pushed Caleb slightly, closing the door so they were alone outside.

"He just had a nightmare, I'll explain everything later, alright? I promise, Caleb." Jim said, seeing the doubt written on his face. Caleb relaxed slightly, looking down before looking into the Pastor's eyes again. "Fine." he muttered. Jim nodded and opened the door, Caleb following and shutting the door quietly behind him.

John was bent down next to the couch, waking Dean when they walked in. Caleb took one look at Dean's face and his heart fell in his chest. His face was deathly pale, and a cold sweat was at his forehead. He slowly advanced toward the couch and sat on the end of the couch, lying his hand on Dean's leg, squeezing softly.

John glanced up and looked at Caleb in confusion and seeing this, Caleb sighed. "Jim called about the situation with the nightmares. And I heard the scream and…well, I'm a sucker for your boys." Caleb chuckled slightly. John smirked. He'd always trusted Caleb with the boys do to his love for them and how much he had made the boys happy at Jim's the past few years.

Jim was sitting at the table again, laptop open, typing on the computer, looking for more info on the nightmares.

John's attention was shifted to Dean as he heard the soft croaky voice of his son. "Dad?" he croaked. It had taken a few opens and closes of his eyes for his vision to fully become unblurred and finally set his eyes on his father. He smiled down at his son. "Hey kiddo." he said softly brushing a hand over his forehead. It was still, to his dismay, burning with fever.

Dean sat up, moaning in pain as he felt sharp, stabbing pains going through his head. "Take it easy there, kid." Caleb said, his hand squeezing Dean's leg slightly. Dean's eyes snapped open at the familiar voice. He stared at Caleb in confusion. "What are you…why are you here?" he asked. He loved Caleb like a bigger brother but was worried instantly at his sudden appearance.

"Well, bein' worried about you, Deuce." he said chuckling. Dean looked down at the ground, closing his eyes and trying to focus on what had happened. He remembered Sam having a nightmare, getting him water, and Sam screaming…

"Where's Sammy?" he asked immediately, eyes darting around the room, head swiveling. He ignored the pain in his head as he searched. John held his son's shoulders slightly, trying to stop him from twisting and turning. "He's fine, kiddo. He's sleeping." He said, looking into his son's worried eyes. Dean relaxed a little at the good news, but was still confused. "Dad…what happened?" he asked, wracking his brain for answers.

John sighed and looked at his son sadly. "You were having a nightmare - pretty vivid. Just like the one you said Sammy was having when you called." John said softly.

Dean suddenly stilled, now fully registering the previous nightmare. He shuddered. What had scared him most about the nightmare was that usually, on any other day, he wouldn't remember the nightmare down to the last fact. But he remembered this nightmare right down to the last fact, even wincing as he remembered the pain.

Caleb squeezed his leg again reassuringly. "You wanna tell us about it, Dean?" He said. Dean stared at Caleb. He hadn't heard Caleb call him by his name since he was 4. He knew then that he was being serious.

John squeezed Dean's shoulder, causing Dean to look at his father. "Dean. We need to know, son." he said softly.

Dean sighed shakily.

He knew he wasn't going to get out of this one.


	7. Chapter 7

**Long & Over due, Really lame. Very disappointing chapter to me, overall, WAY more action in the next chapter, you have my word! My internet was down a few weeks again, and football has started. So. Next chapter will be up in the next 3 hours. Thanks to all who are still reading and for waiting!**

After he was finished telling about the gruesome sights he had witnessed in his nightmares, Dean was shuddering, unable to stop himself from shaking. As his father wrote down notes at the table on his son's nightmare and Jim did more research regarding the nightmare, Caleb sat beside Dean, trying to comfort the young boy. He put his hand on Dean's knee lightly and squeezed it lightly.

"Calm down, Deuce, we're here. Nothin's gonna get you, I promise." he muttered, trying to look into Dean's tear filled eyes. Dean nodded but kept his head down, calming slightly at the lightness of Caleb's touch. He took a deep breathe before speaking.

"Dad…why does he want Sammy?" he asked hesitantly. He didn't know who the man was or why he had kept bothering to tell Dean that he was going to take Sam away from him, but he couldn't bare the thought of his baby brother being dragged away by this foul man. John looked up from his notes and took a deep breathe, his heart dropping at his eldest's face.

"I'm not really sure, Deano. But we'll figure this out. You have my word, kiddo." he said lightly, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He watched as Dean lightly nodded and leaned into Caleb, exhaustion slowly settling in on his young body. Dean forced his eyes to stay open, fighting the strong surge of exhaustion that was threatening to put him back under. He had been terrified of the man, but he knew he had to be strong - for Sammy. He hated showing weakness around his family.

John watched as Dean fought to stay awake, Caleb putting a comforting arm around Dean's shoulder and rubbing circles into his shoulder. John nodded his appreciation to Caleb and smiled at the young hunter. He had been like an older brother to Dean ever since they had met Caleb. Dean and Caleb had been so alike that John could've mistaken them as brothers if he didn't know any better.

As Dean's breathe smoothened out and his eyes fully closed, Caleb lightly settled Dean down onto the couch, grabbing the nearest blanket and tucking him in, careful not to wake the sleeping boy. He walked over and leaned both elbows on the back of John's chair and looked over his shoulder at the notes scribbled on the paper before him. "So, what you thinking?" Caleb asked quietly.

"Demon." Jim said, knowingly. Caleb looked up in surprise. "How the hell would a demon be doing this?" Caleb asked in confusion. He'd heard of many demons controlling things, but never had heard of demon in control of one's nightmares so vividly and powerfully. "Caleb, there's stronger and more powerful demons in the world. It could be the very demon that…well, the demon that was the fault for the events of a few years before." he said, glancing at John and changing his words as to not upset him.

John smiled a little, knowing that Jim had known to change his words, but nodded, knowing that Jim had a point. Caleb frowned slightly, but nodded, seeing the Jim was, in fact, the most experienced hunter of them all and would have a better guess that John and Caleb would ever have.

Caleb glanced down at Dean, glad to see the young boy still peacefully at rest, seeing no hint of a nightmare that was unfolding. "So, how do we stop it?" Caleb asked, glancing back at Jim. Jim shrugged, still keeping his eyes on the computer screen before him. "I'm still working on it." he replied. He didn't know how he would find a way to stop the nightmares, but he was determined to find a way to stop them.

"My thoughts are, John, you and I should visit upper area in Illinois. It's only an hour away and Caleb, you can stay here and watch after the boys." Jim said, frowning at the computer. Caleb looked at Jim in confusion. "But-" he was cut off by Jim. "Caleb, you're the youngest. We don't want you mixed up with this, and the boys love you." he said, looking Caleb in the eyes.

Caleb sighed. "Fine.." he mumbled.

Caleb stifled a yawn as he again glanced over John's shoulder at the notes. "You should get some sleep." he heard John mumble. _Damnit_, Caleb thought. "And so should you, old man." he replied, lightly driving his elbow into John's back playfully.

John chuckled and smiled lightly. "Well, if you chuckleheads are done, I think we are all due for a nap, at least." he said, shutting the computer and rubbing his eyes from the harsh computer light. "John, this does include you, especially since we're heading out early tomorrow." he said pointedly.

John and Caleb glared at Jim but nodded.

John stood from the table and went over to his son, picking him up. Dean instantly wrapped his arms around his father's figure and drifted almost instantly. He turned back to Caleb and Jim.

"Where you guys wanna crash?" he asked quietly.

"Caleb can take the recliner, I'll take the chair." he said, motioning to the wicker chair beside the recliner. John nodded, knowing Jim had intended to watch over them as they slept rather than sleeping himself. Caleb nodded as well, stretching slightly and shuffling toward the recliner, sitting with a relieved sigh and pulled out the foot rest and laid back.

Before climbing in for the night, John went in to check on his youngest and to his delight, Sammy was still sleeping peacefully. He smiled, walking back to the couch. John carefully maneuvered himself and Dean into a comfortable position on the couch, Dean still clinging to his father. Jim watched as they both climbed into their bed's for the night and sighed.

"Get some sleep tonight. We got a lot of work to do tomorrow."

Azazel watched as the small family got ready for bed. He smirked at the way that the small family seemed to be tidy and untroubled and laughed coldly as he watched the eldest son sleeping peacefully. His eyes turned fiery yellow as he chuckled.

He knew that the Winchester's were on to him. But there was only one possible way to kill him and that way was locked in a safe at Samuel's home. He had loved the energy and anger that came off the eldest. He had also loved how Dean thought he could save Sam.

He laughed again as he left the Winchester home, letting them one last peaceful night before the real fun would begin.


	8. Chapter 8

**PLEASE READ: To avoid confusion, Dean is 11. Not 12. Age mix up. Sorry!**

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The next morning was busy. John, Caleb, and Jim woke around 6 a.m. to a very dark and stormy day ahead. Caleb helped John and Jim gather their hunting equipment in case they were to run into the demon. After an hour, Dean woke groggily, but didn't speak to anyone, only nodded or shrugged.

After informing Dean that they would be leaving, John woke Sammy. Sam had been told that John and Jim were just going out to run a few errands and it may take them a few days, seeing as Sammy was not yet informed on what hunting was. After saying goodbye to Caleb, Sam, and Dean, they left for Illinois.

After they had left, Dean had drifted back to sleep, occasionally woken by the cracks of thunder that shuddered the house. Caleb had already closed the curtains to Sam being frightened by the lightening, but there was nothing he could do about the thunder.

Caleb cooked the boys breakfast around 9, Sammy still fully awake, Dean asleep again on the couch.

"How long are daddy and Pastor Jim gonna be gone?" the youngest brother asked while sitting at the table and waiting for his breakfast. Caleb glanced behind him at the innocent child and couldn't help but feel for him, hoping his innocence would last longer than Dean's ever did. He took the pan of pancakes off of the stove and scooped two on Sammy's plate and set the rest of them on the counter.

"Don't know, Sammy, they're pretty important errands that they're running, so. Could be up to two days." he said, ruffling Sam's hair lightly as he passed Sam and went to wake Dean. Sam nodded. His dad always had things to do, although he never really knew what his father did.

A few minutes later, Dean shuffled to the kitchen table, taking his seat beside Sam. He was unusually pale and didn't speak, not even acknowledging that Sam was even there. "You 'k, De?" he asked, worriedly. Dean looked up at Sammy's round puppy dog eyes and smirked. "Just a little tired, Sammy, eat your breakfast." he replied sheepishly.

Caleb walked in and looked at the stack of untouched pancakes and glanced at Dean. "You want any, Deuce?" he asked softly. "Sure." Dean replied in a gruff voice. As Caleb gave Dean two pancakes, he watched as Sam chattered on about random things while Dean smirked every once in a while, picking at his food rather than eating it.

After Sam was done eating, Caleb let him go to the bathroom to take his morning bath. "You sure you don't want any help, kiddo?" he called from the kitchen, cleaning Sam's area. "Yep." he called, closing the bathroom door.

Caleb smirked and laughed to himself. After throwing away Sam's leftover food, he looked out at the dark sky, seeing the lightening cracking down to the floor. "Whew." he muttered. He hadn't seen a storm quite this bad since Tennessee while hunting a weather demon. Damned thing had it almost as bad as a hurricane.

Caleb turned to eye Dean carefully, still worried about the eldest Winchester boy. Caleb sat down beside Dean. It had been almost 20 minutes and Dean had mainly picked at his food, only eating a mouthful of food the whole time.

"You alright, kiddo?" he bowed his head down slightly to look at Dean. Dean just shrugged, twirling his fork around, chopping his pancakes into tiny pieces. Dean stared at his plate, knowing that Caleb wanted an answer, but he kept silent, for fear that he would cry in front of the only older brother type figure he had, who he was closest to after his father.

Caleb read the worry about confusion on Dean's face and spoke up, putting his arm around the small boy's shoulders, knowing what Dean's fears were; the man who threatened to take Sammy away.

"Deuce, as long as Jim, your father, and I are around, we ain't letting that happen." He said, shaking Dean slightly. Dean nodded, giving in to the affection and hugged Caleb. "Thanks…" he whispered into Caleb's shirt.

Caleb smirked and chuckled. "Anytime, Deuce. Your such a girl." He said, smiling but hugging the young boy back. Dean glared at Caleb but allowed himself to be comforted, smirking at the stupid joke. Caleb rubbed circles into the younger boy's shoulders, praying that he wasn't lying to Dean.

He felt Dean jump as the thunder roared outside again and tightened his grip around Dean. "It's all gonna be ok, Deuce.." he muttered.

He only hoped that he was right.

**Present Day - Illinois (7:00 A.m.)**

It had been a long day. After an hour of driving and research, they had reached Illinois. Recently, in the small town, there had been many signs of an unusual presence around the place. Cattle mutilation, electrical storms. It was the closest they had to a lead and were ready to jump on it.

Jim pulled up outside of a gritty looking motel and sighed. "Where do you think we should start?" He asked, not knowing himself. John scratched his head, thinking of what to do. Scouring the city wouldn't do them much, considering the demon could've been anyone, and chucking holy water around wasn't exactly a supported thing.

He opened the glove compartment where he had stuck his journal and took it out, opening it and sifting through the all too familiar pages until he stopped on a page and frowned. "Do you have any summoning ritual spells for specific demons?" he asked, looking down while scratching his head. Jim thought for a moment.

"Yeah, but none that will bring forth the demon we're looking for. We'd have to know the damned things name to summon it." he sighed. He knew there wasn't much sense in coming out to Illinois, not knowing much about the demon, but also knew they had to stop the thing before things got worse.

"I'll go check us in." Jim sighed as he had no response from John. John nodded, still studying his journal intently. He was determined to find something, anything, to lead where the damned demon was.

He'd be damned if he'd let the son of a bitch get away.

* * *

After hours of movies at the local movie theater, the boys were tired and groggy. Sammy had wanted to play outside, but it was impossible, seeing as the storm had only gotten worse since that morning. Dean had ended up watching The Shining after breakfast and after hearing Sam's pleas, asked Caleb if they could go to the movies. He did, after all, have a fake credit card.

After 6 movies, it was finally 11 and Dean and Sammy were exhausted. Upon arriving back at the motel, Sam fell asleep in the car, Caleb having to carry him inside while Dean trudged behind. "Dean, get the lights, will ya?" he asked, his hands full, having Sam in one arm and 2 bags of un-eaten popcorn in the other.

Dean did as asked, turning on the light as Caleb felt his way through the motel room and into Sam and Dean's room, setting down Sam and tucking him in. As the light turned on, Dean pulled off his thin sweatshirt and turned to go to the bathroom but stopped dead in his tracks.

There, in front of the bathroom door, was the man who appeared in his nightmares. His worst nightmare was literally becoming real. Dean stared at the man, fear coursing through his veins as he backed up, stopping at the entrance of their motel room.

"Hiya, Dean." the yellow eyes flared as the man spoke, the familiar, husky voice speaking. Tears trickled down Dean's face as he stared at the frightening man. He ripped his eyes away, looking for Caleb, and spotted him, still in Sam's room, tucking in his younger brother.

Dean tried to reach out his voice to call for the older man but his throat was too dry. The man laughed at Dean's frightened expression on his face. "Ah, now, now Dean, no need to get interactive, is there?" he asked, laughing coldly. Dean couldn't stop the constant flowing of tears as they budded down his cheeks.

The man got more and more amused by the second, laughing coldly. He chuckled as he approached Dean's stilled and frightened trembling body, bending down so he was face to face with Dean. "Dean." his scratchy voice said. All Dean could do was stare into the intensity of the yellow eyes.

"Sammy is mine." he voiced, the smirk coming back to his face as more tears groped down his face.

The yellow eyed man put his hand on Dean's stomach, but soon enough, his hand disappeared into Dean's stomach. The man laughed coldly as Dean shrieked in sudden pain coursing throughout his whole body. He pressed himself against the door, pushing against it, willing the pain away and clenching his eyes shut as he screamed in agonizing pain.

As the pain slowly faded, he kept his eyes closed. _So this is what death is like_, he thought to himself.

"Dean!" He heard a familiar but hazy voice yelling at him. He slowly opened his eyes, his vision blurry, his ribs aching from pain. He felt hands on his shoulders, pressing him into the door, restraining him. He looked around him, only seeing blobs of colors and light. He clenched his eyes shut again, willing things to focus.

When he opened his eyes again, he was face to face with Caleb, his face contorted with worry and fear. He was confused all at once.

"Ca-Caleb..?" he asked, his breathe hitching. He wasted no time, jumping from Caleb's grasp on his shoulder and throwing himself on Caleb, clinging to him, afraid the man would come back. "Thank god…" he gasped into Caleb's shirt and he let the tears fall.

Caleb was taken by surprise but sighed in relief and he saw Dean come back to reality. He wrapped firm arms around the elder Winchester boy, standing up and carrying Dean with him as he cooed to Dean to calm down as he sobbed onto Caleb's shoulder. He picked up the popcorn bucket he had dropped, racing out to Dean when he heard the deadly scream. He then peered in Sam and Dean's room, surprised at how Sam was still asleep.

After getting the popcorn picked up, Dean's sobbing subsided slightly. Caleb sat down on the couch, rubbing Dean's back as he tried to calm him. "It's ok, Dean, I gotcha." he cooed softly.

He pulled Dean back slightly, trying to look Dean in the eyes as he spoke.

"What happened, kiddo?" he asked softly, rubbing circles into Dean's shoulder. Dean sniffed and cleared his throat. He told Caleb the whole thing and how it had felt and looked so real. Caleb listened intently and was shocked at how Dean had said he felt sore from the pain in his hallucination.

After he told Caleb everything, he couldn't help the oncoming tears.

Caleb pulled Dean back to his chest and wrapped firm arms around the small boy again, cooing to Dean again. He'd never seen Dean so upset and it killed him inside.

After 10 minutes, Dean had drifted off to sleep, crying himself to sleep. Caleb carefully stood, checking the salt lines and making sure everything was set. He laid Dean down on the couch, going back into the children's room and bringing Sammy out onto the couch, setting him opposite side of Dean.

He didn't want them out of his site for the rest of the night. He didn't know how many more hallucinations would happen and who it would happen to.

He took out his phone, dreading the phone call he would have to soon make.

* * *

**So, any suggestions/comments? Took a few pieces of paper and scribbles, but i'm proud of this chapter, especially since i've had writer's block the past few days.**** this one is longer, thank god, finally. A lot wanted a soft Dean and Caleb chapter, so you got it. Hope you guys enjoyed!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Long overdue, i know. School, football, & soccer are holding me up, but i'm writing on the weekends as much as i can. Hope this was kinda worth it..**

* * *

A few days had passed since the hallucinations had started and things had gotten only the slightest bit of better. Since, although Sammy seemed energetic and happy as it was, Dean was getting tired of it. Dean, at the end of every day, would look as pale as a ghost and would never have an appetite for food.

And his nightmares had only gotten worse. Hallucinations occurred daily to Dean but he would try and shrug it off, unless something was truly hurting him or until the elder hunters found out that he was hallucinating. Sam, of course, was smart enough to know that something was wrong with Dean, but Dean would never let Sam see too much of his exhaustion, only telling Sam he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before.

Caleb sat at the cluttered desk of Jim's office, researching more on the demon. Jim had gone out a while ago and had taken Sam and Dean to the park, in hopes of getting Dean to perk up. He usually had, but only for Sam.

John couldn't stand to watch Dean get worse and worse everyday, so he set out on different routes to where the demonic signs had appeared.

Caleb slammed the book he was reading shut and rubbed at his temple. "We're getting nowhere, John…" he muttered. He closed his eyes, opening them to see the empty chair across from him. He stared at the ticking clock across the wall, his heart going with the beat of the tick. It was almost six.

Caleb sat at the table, holding his head in his hands.

He hadn't seen the Winchester's go through this much hell since Mary and it killed him, knowing that the thing that had taken Mary was now messing with the eldest brother. There was no doubt in his mind that the bastard was the same one that killed Mary.

He stared at the old wood, holding his head. It had been hours of tiring work and he got nothing. He felt like he was back in the time when his parents had died. He had done everything to find the demon who had killed his own parents, but he had failed to find the demon. Jim had stopped him along his path of revenge, thankfully.

His eyes watered as he remembered the dark days of hunting he had gone through. The loneliness, tears, frustration. All for revenge. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, brushing away the tears.

He prayed at that moment that Sam and Dean would never have to experience hunting for redemption like he and John did. He envied any hunter who had gone into hunting in a non-revenge way, doing it for the good of the world.

His thoughts were suddenly pulled away.

He heard the creaking of the door opening. He heard Jim say a few words to the kids and heard, oddly, two pairs of footsteps going in different directions, one set smaller and faster than the other's heavy, rhythmic steps.

Jim emerged in the room, shrugging off his coat. Caleb glanced up tiredly, seeing the ashen faced older hunter. Jim coughed before speaking. "Sammy's in the kitchen getting a snack." he chuckled slightly, pulling up a chair across from Caleb to the desk.

Caleb glanced at Jim in confusion.

Jim sorted through some of the notes on the desk, not noticing Caleb's glance until he noticed the silence. He looked up into Caleb's questioning eyes.

"Dean's outside. Said he wasn't feeling too good and needed some air." he sighed, itching the side of his head. Caleb nodded, staring at the corner of the desk, lost in thought. Jim watched Caleb, worried at the sudden quietness that had enveloped him. Caleb felt eyes boring into him and coughed slightly before speaking.

"Don't got anything." he said, his voice coming out raw with exhaustion, the slight cough not contributing.

Jim nodded, glancing back at the sloppy written notes strewn all around the table. He then glanced back at Caleb.

"Are you alright, kid?" he asked, trying to hold the young hunters gaze. Caleb was pale, dark, purplish bags under his eyes, and the slow movement contributed to his exhausted look.

Caleb glanced up and locked eyes with Jim.

"This." he indicated to the desk, sitting back in his chair.

"This is gonna be their life in a number of years…revenge, lust, redemption.." he leaned back against the desk, his face in his hands, shaking his head.

Jim's face shone with recognition. Caleb was still raw on his parents' death and never getting to kill the bastard that killed them, and often caught Caleb with a somber expression in deep thought at times when he was alone.

"Well, the best we can do is hope and try and prevent that." he said softly, putting a comforting hand on Caleb's shoulder. Caleb looked up wearily and nodded. Jim gave his shoulder a squeeze before letting go and sighing. "Should check on Dean." he said, sliding his chair back.

Caleb followed suit, also wanting to check on Dean. He hadn't saw him since the night before, but the effects of everything got worse by day.

As they approached the door, they could hear Sam rummaging for food in the kitchen. They both chuckled, glad that they had some light shed in the house.

Jim suddenly turned at the door, both hands on the handle. "Before we go out there…you should know something." Jim sighed. When Caleb said nothing, Jim went on. "He's pretty sick, Caleb. Worse than yesterday…" he muttered. Caleb nodded slightly.

Jim turned on his heel and opened the door.

Dean looked out at the horizon, the sun disappearing behind the clouds for the umpteenth time today. It was a generally sunny but patchy day, but he knew that it was the evening and things were only gradually getting darker due to that factor.

He wound his arms around his knees and blinked wearily, setting his head in his knees. He was exhausted from the playing that he and Sam had done at the playground. He was scared for Sammy's safety since his nightmares had turned to hallucinations, but what scared him most was that he was more exhausted than he should, at his age, be.

He sighed, weariness clouding his thoughts and mind slowly. He wished that the Impala would just roar up the drive and his father would be cheery and happy and tell Dean that he had killed the demon. Or that his dad would tell him that everything would be ok.

But, being a Winchester, he knew it was far fetched to think like that.

He heard the soft creaking of the door behind him and, knowing it was Caleb & Jim, kept his back turned and his gaze locked on the scenery before him.

He heard soft footsteps lightly coming closer until he saw two figures sitting on each side of him.

"You alright?" the familiar, husky voice of Caleb spoke up first. Dean hadn't seen Caleb or spoken to him in a few days and, to be honest, Dean missed him like hell.

Dean nodded his head, not feeling up to speaking, afraid his voice would falter if he spoke to the older brother figure.

Caleb sighed, taking a glance at Jim. Their worried gaze & eyes both read the same: what do we do?

"Well, it's almost dinner time. Anyone up for some grub?" Jim spoke this time, not knowing what else to say, but noting that Dean hadn't eaten anything all day. Not waiting for an answer, he got up from the porch step and went inside.

Dean sat on the step, head on his knees, too lost in thought to want to think about the elder hunter's presence.

Caleb glanced worriedly down at Dean and was battling with himself whether to speak or let the peace in the silence continue. Finally, after a few minutes of silence and peace, he spoke up.

"So…any hallucinations today?" he asked tentatively, not wanting to push the younger one into pressure.

Dean looked up at Caleb for a moment, debating what to say and how to say it. Without warning, his eyes started to water, remembering the hallucinations that had previously happened, but at the time, no one was there to assure Dean it was fake.

Caleb watched as Dean's eyes filled with tears and knew his answer.

He wrapped an arm around Dean's shoulders and rubbed circles into the smaller boy's shoulder, knowing that if he said something, being as young but as smart as Dean was, Dean wouldn't believe a word he would say about everything being alright.

He was a Winchester. He knew better.

"I want scabettios!" Sam shrieked. He had the same cheeky grin he always did when he wanted something from someone. And those big round puppy dog eyes. Jim looked at Dean for backup but Dean smirked & said nothing.

"Sam, we don't have those, kiddo." Jim said lightly. "And last time I made them, you said you were sick of them." he smiled a little at the memory.

Sam knew how to work his magic when he wanted, so he stuck the lip & put the puppy dog eyes on full force, looking up sadly at Pastor Jim. Jim sighed, knowing he had no way out of it.

"Well, if your really sure, then me & Caleb will have to go into town for a few minutes to grab some for you. And there is actually a few things we need to stock up on around here, I guess." He said thoughtfully. Caleb walked into the room, carrying a big bag of salt and trying to rip the seal open.

"Which means, Dean, you'll have to watch over Sam while we're gone, make sure everything is salted and bolted shut, & don't let anyone in under any circumstances." He said sternly. He was looking at Jim while speaking but looked down at Dean, who had paled slightly. He nodded his head curtly.

Caleb knew what Dean was afraid of, but he needed to go with Jim to town. He set the bag of salt down on the ground & bent down to Dean's height. "Hey. We're only gonna be a few minutes. Alright?" he smirked, putting out his hand, expecting a high five. Dean hesitated for a moment before nodding & lightly high fiving Caleb.

Caleb smiled, standing up. "Well, I'll just salt around the house and make sure everything is shut. Then we can get going."

Dean watched as Caleb exited the room. He then looked at Sammy. He was confused on the whole situation so he was on the ground, trying to catch a fly that kept landing on him. Dean smirked lightly. He was starting to build confidence on taking care of Sam.

He had no problem with taking care of his little brother. The thing he was worried about was the hallucinations.

He was afraid that someone would take his baby brother.


	10. Chapter 10

**THANK YOU SANDY. Got the day off to write. This chapter is a bit of a filler chapter to get to the point. More Azazel soon. **

* * *

"Sammy, stop." Dean sighed. Sam had spent most of the hour that Jim & Caleb had been gone jumping on the bed. Dean, all the while, sat on the couch, watching the clock. He had a headache from his little brother's annoying television series & the fact that Sam was jumping on the bed & laughing at the old re-run of Looney Tunes only added to his frustration.

He got up from the couch, crossing the room to the window. He pulled back the shades, looking out at the driveway. It was almost pitch black now & Dean was getting anxious. Caleb had said they'd only be a few minutes & it had been an hour with no call or notice.

He sighed, turning to look at Sam irritably.

"Sam, I said stop. Your gonna get hurt." He said sharply. He knew he was being mean, but he knew accidents, especially with his family, happened more often than not. Sam only stuck his tongue out & laughed in response.

Dean loved Sammy, but when it came down to headaches & Sammy's consistent laughter, he let himself off of the nice & soft gig he always shared with his brother.

Dean glared at his baby brother. "Dammit, Sam, I said stop!" Dean yelled angrily, taking the remote & turning off the tv. He threw the remote at the wall in anger, watching the remote shatter into tiny pieces. Dean looked back at Sam, satisfied to hear no more laughter, but paled instantly.

Sam had fallen from the bed & hit his head on the nightstand, the corner of the nightstand covered in red. Sam was curled in a ball, holding his head, the tremors easily visible to Dean.

"Shit!" he muttered, running over to his brother.

"Sammy-" he started, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder to uncurl him but was cut off by small hands smacking him away. Guilt was eating at him, but he knew he had to get Sammy fixed. "Sammy, I'm so sorry I yelled at you, I shouldn't have done that." he said, once again trying to pull Sammy out of the small ball he had formed.

"Go away." he heard the small whimper. He curled into himself tighter, making it harder for Dean to pull him apart. Dean laughed shakily. "No way, Sammy."

Sarcasm wasn't going to work this time, Dean decided. He put a soft hand on Sam's back as he spoke. "Listen. I'm sorry, Sammy. I just had a headache & was mad & got angry, alright? It's not your fault, you were just being a kid.." he smiled lightly before continuing. "But I didn't want you to get hurt & that's why I yelled. And because you didn't listen to me the first time, look what happened." he said softly.

Sam untensed slightly but stayed curled in a ball. "Sammy, I need to get you patched up. Your head must kill right now.." he said, rubbing Sam's back softly.

Sam waited a few seconds before uncurling & sitting up, but the pain in his head forced him back down. Dean watched as Sam made an attempt to sit up, but fell like he was pushed right back to the ground. He put his hands out behind Sam's back before Sam's head could hit the floor.

Sam winced & was starting to cry, icy tears rolling down his cheeks. Dean gave his brother a sympathetic look. "It's ok, Sammy, I gotcha." he muttered softly as he grabbed a pillow from the bed & set it under Sam's head. Sam nodded slightly but his face crumpled as more tears ran down at the slight movement causing him even more pain.

"I'll be right back, I gotta go get the first aid kit." he cautioned before leaving Sam. He patted Sam's arm before getting up & going to the bathroom. He opened the bottom cabinet, moving the useless soap & conditioner items that were blocking what he needed. He finally found the first aid kit & without thinking, ran back to his brother. He tripped over the table, hitting his leg on the edge of the table. He winced slightly, but ignored the pain as he got to Sam.

Sam was trembling, tears still rolling down his face. Dean knew he was going into shock soon if he didn't stop the blood loss. "Hey, hey, hey, look at me." he said, turning his baby brother's face to face him. "Hurts.." he whimpered softly.

"I know it does, Sammy, but I'm gonna make it better, ok? I'm gonna roll you over to look at the wound & make it better, alright?" he watched Sam's expression of doubt & hoped he wouldn't have to force his brother onto his stomach.

Sam looked at his big brother. He wasn't sure Dean was telling the truth or not, but he trusted him, so he shook his head silently as he carefully maneuvered himself onto his stomach. Dean sat back to let his brother take his time on turning himself over, the amount of blood loss causing his energy to drain. When Sam was on his stomach, Dean went quickly to work.

The wound was deep, no doubt, but small in width. He snapped open the first aid kit & searched for an anesthetic numbing tool. After digging through everything & double checking everything twice, to his horror, he didn't find one.

"Shit.." he mumbled as he stared at the empty first aid kit, the rest of the items strewn across the floor. He looked at the sewing materials he had & sighed in defeat. He knew that he couldn't wait any longer before Sam had bled out to the point where it wasn't fixable.

"Sammy...this is gonna hurt…a lot." he said sadly, his voice wavering as he said it. Sam just nodded, not wanting to know what Dean meant, but knew he would know by the time he was finished. Tears rolled down Dean's face as he cleaned the area around the wound before starting, not wanting an infection to happen.

He then took the sewing materials & looked at them in hatred. He positioned Sam's head on his lap so he could get a better angle on sewing so hopefully it would make the process go quicker. Before poking the first hole & starting, he took his baby brother's hand.

"Ready, Sammy?" he asked, his voice barely audible. Sam squeezed his eyes shut, ready for the pain he knew he was bound to endure. Sam squeezed Dean's hand, giving Dean his answer. Dean let go of Sam's hand & took a deep breathe.

Poking the first hole of the first stitch, tears began to fall down Dean's face automatically as he heard Sam shriek in pain the first of many times.

* * *

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Dean walked over to the bathroom to clean his hands off. He looked at himself in the mirror, his eyes bloodshot, puffy, & his face a shade of tomato red from the streaking tears still falling.

It had been the longest 10 minutes Dean had ever endured in his life. After the first stitch, Sam's cries & insistent pleas had only gotten worse. Sam was now passed out & in bed, the pain finally overtook him almost after the last stitch. As he washed his hands, he stared at Sam's blood. Sam's blood on his hands.

More tears began to fall but he brushed them away as he heard the rumble of an engine pulling in the drive. He quickly wiped the blood from his hands that he had missed, shut off the light, & went over to the door to let the elder hunters in.

He opened the door slowly and poked his head out to make sure that it was for sure Jim & Caleb but was confused to see his father staggering toward the house. Dean squinted & saw the bottle of Jack Daniels in his father's hand.

_Shit_, Dean thought. "Dad's gonna be pissed…" he muttered, thinking of what his dad would say once he saw Sammy. Dean quickly closed the door & made sure everything was clean of blood. Maybe he could hide it from John until Caleb & Jim returned.

He heard the door creaking open as he came out of the bathroom.

He knew there'd be hell to pay if John found out.

* * *

"Another one, sugar?" the bartender asked. She was blonde, but none to John's interest. He'd already downed a few shots of Tequila & was getting sick of the taste. It had been a successful hunt over a spirit & he had gotten the bastard done within an hour. Every hunt the past few days had been a simple salt-and-burn anyways.

"How 'bout a full bottle of Jack?" he slurred. She looked him over & knew she shouldn't but by the way John was paying, she needed the money & got him a Jack Daniels bottle. He tipped 20 dollars & staggered out of the bar.

"Lord help his children." she muttered, wondering if the man even had children.

John walked out of the bar & got into the Impala. He stared at the ignition for a few minutes before deciding it was time for him to go back to Jim's place. He hadn't been back or let anyone know about his whereabouts for weeks & he decided that they'd start wondering in a few more days.

He took his time driving to the house, not wanting to crash the Impala.

Once he got to the house, he looked around for Jim's vehicle but was confused when he didn't see it anywhere.

He got out of the Impala & shut the door, staggering toward the house. He saw the door shut as he got out but was too out of it to pay much attention to it. He threw the bottle of empty Jack Daniels at the woods & continued toward the house.

He opened the door & staggered inside, shutting the door behind him.

The first thing he saw was his son, his shirt covered in blood. His eyes widened slightly. "What the hell is on your shirt, boy?" he asked sharply. He hated when Dean ruined shirts, due to the fact that they didn't have enough money to buy many more shirts than what he had.

Dean jumped slightly at the harshness in his father's voice, but looked down at his shirt in confusion. When he saw blood covering his shirt, he panicked. What am I gonna tell him, Dean thought.

He hesitated before answering. "Uh, it's uh…I'm not sure, sir." he said, the panic locking him in place & making his mind go blank. He watched John stagger toward him, not able to walk straight. He stopped & glanced toward the bed where Sammy was lying.

Dean followed his eyes. "Damn!" he muttered. He looked at the corner of the nightstand, dry blood still on it. He quickly averted his eyes before John could follow his gaze but it was too late.

John turned his body to face Sammy & he bent down to examine Sam's head, seeing the sewing on the back. He then turned & glanced at the dry blood. He stood slowly, & turned to glare at Dean.

"Sir, I'm-" but he was cut off as his father stood in front of him & pushed him into the wall.

"I ask you one thing & you can't even fulfill that." he slurred, bending down to eye level with Dean. Dean just stared at his father. As he stared at him, his father's eyes began to change to yellow. He gaped at the yellow eyes in confusion.

"Is that all you got to say, boy?! Nothing?" he yelled in Dean's face. Dean flinched but couldn't speak, not sure if the demon was making him hallucinate again or it was really his father. Suddenly, he felt a hand connect with his cheek & he was on the ground, icy tears stringing his face.

He slowly began to get up, only to be slapped in the face again. He stayed on the ground against the wall, curling into a ball, & let the tears fall mercilessly. He put his hands over his ears as he heard more shouting. It had sounded like more than one person but he didn't care.

Black spots began to dance across his face as the ache in his head became worse, but he didn't mind.

He just wanted it to end.


	11. Chapter 11

**Looks are deceiving. Longer chapter, but lots and lots of Dean/Sammy fluff. Because i miss it. A lot. lol, no. Another filler chapter, leading up to Azazel's return. I know i said Azazel would be in this one but i HAD to have another filler due to the content in the previous chapter. Hope you enjoyy.**

* * *

Dean didn't know how long he had been out for, but it seemed like forever. The pain in his head was still there, the pounding in his skull bringing him back to consciousness. The first thing he noticed was the softness beneath him. He was no longer on the ground & was lying on something soft & chilled. He quirked an eyebrow & opened his eyes slowly. Everything was blurry at first, but gradually, Dean started to make out his surroundings.

He saw the bed beside him, the bed made & no longer containing the small lump underneath the covers that the previous night, was Sammy. He didn't think much of it until he realized that Sammy was no longer there after his father was being abusive. He immediately sat up, looking around the room for his baby brother. A wave of vertigo hit Dean as he squeezed his eyes shut & willed the nausea away.

He refused to think about what had happened to Sammy. He couldn't stand the thought of his father laying a hand to Sam like that. He took a few deep breaths before opening his eyes, the room no longer twisting & turning. He took in the room, everything in it's place as was the night before. He swept the blankets from his body & was again, shocked to see the change of clothes he had on.

Instead of the blood stained white shirt & ripped jeans, he now had a black long sleeve shirt on with an old pair of sweat pants. He stared down at the new clothing, trying to sort through the night before. First, there was the accident with Sam, then his father came home. But he couldn't remember what had happened after his father got home.

He carefully swung his legs off the side of the bed, but winced as he felt more pain in his legs. It wasn't so much as pain, it was as if he were sore from an off hunt. He carefully stood & interlocked his hands above his head, stretching upward.

He gasped in pain, his arms & shoulder blades sore as well.

"What the hell…" he muttered, bringing his hands down slowly. He moved his hand along his back, feeling his shoulder blades & back area, but only felt a few light bumps every now & again. He shrugged slightly, not thinking too much of it.

He shuffled toward the window, pulling back the curtains. It was morning, but rain poured down on the house, the sky a very gloomy blue, little puddles starting to form in the driveway. He looked for the Impala, but didn't see it, supposing his dad had left again.

"Dean?" he heard a small voice say behind him. He turned his head slowly toward the source & found his baby brother standing a few feet away, his eyes glassy with tears. Dean felt worry immediately start to pour into his system.

He walked over to Sam, crouching down to his small position, hiding the wince of pain his legs caused. "Sammy, what's wrong?" he asked, putting one of his hands to cup Sam's pale face & one on his shoulder.

Sam sniffled. "I th-thought y-you weren't gonna w-wake u-up…" he stuttered as the icy tears started to fall. Sam put his head down, not wanting Dean to watch him cry. Dean's heart broke for his baby brother as he watched tears roll down his face.

Dean pushed Sam's head up lightly to look at him. Sam obeyed & gazed at Dean with red eyes. "Sammy, I'm here, I'm awake, see?" he grabbed the opening of Sam's unzipped sweatshirt & pulled on it lightly. "See Sammy? You feel that? I'm here & I'm not leaving." he said softly, chuckling.

Without an answer for his brother, Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, clinging to him as if he were afraid he would disappear. Dean stood, the pain in his legs becoming unbearable, but picked Sam up with him. He rubbed the small of Sam's back softly, trying to calm him down.

He walked around, looking for Sam's old blanket.

Sam had turned 7 only a few weeks ago, his father throwing out his old blanket. Sam had cried for hours on end afterward until Dean fished the blanket out of the garbage, cleaned it & gave it back to Sam.

His father, to this day, still didn't know that Dean secretly packed the blanket for wherever they went. He found the blanket in one of his drawers.

Fishing it out, he noticed that Sam had stopped crying & was now fast asleep in his arms. Dean chuckled lightly & put Sam on the bed.

He uncurled the tiny fingers from his neck & settled Sam down with his blanket, tucking him in securely. "Sweet dreams, Sammy.." he whispered as he walked to the bathroom, stretching his arms again, the stiffness starting to bother him.

He closed the bathroom door, taking off his sweatshirt. He didn't think the damage was the bad, considering he was able to stand & do everything else correctly. He turned & gasped at the sight he saw. He had bright red marks & scratches all over his back, his under arms black & blue. His back area was so swollen that he could no longer see his spine when he bent down. He stared at the marks & bruises.

A knock on the bathroom door startled him out of his trance as he hurriedly put his sweatshirt back on. He panicked at the thought of someone finding out about the marks, especially if that person happened to be Sam.

He opened the door slowly. Caleb was standing in front of the door with a worried look.

"Hey." Dean said, his voice unexpectedly scratchy.

"How ya feelin'?" Caleb asked, bending down to Dean's height. Dean averted his eyes down before answering.

"Sore." he muttered. "What…what exactly happened?" he asked hesitantly.

Caleb hesitated but knew he'd find out sooner or later.

"When Jim & I got back from town, your father was beating you but you…you were unconscious & we thought.." he let the sentence hang. Dean nodded, looking down.

"I didn't mean to hurt him." Dean mumbled.

Caleb quirked an eyebrow. "What? You didn't mean to hurt who?" Caleb asked.

"Sammy. Dad said that I had one job & I couldn't do it right." he said, his voice faltering at the end of his sentence.

Caleb looked at Dean in understanding. He'd seen the gash on Sam's head & heard John say something about Sammy getting hurt, but he didn't know the full situation & had forgotten completely about it.

"Dean, what happened while we were gone?" Caleb asked sympathetically.

Dean told the story of how Sam was jumping & he overreacted. When Dean mentioned stitching Sam's head with no numbing anesthetic, tears formed behind Caleb's eyes. He couldn't imagine getting stitches without numbing the area. The mental image of Sam screaming in pain & Dean's livid tears popped into Caleb's head.

Dean saw as Caleb's eyes became glassy & looked down in shame.

_I let them down. I let Sammy down._

Caleb coughed & saw Dean's head hanging. He cursed himself.

"Dean, look at me." He said, grabbing both of Dean's arms, shaking him. Dean looked up with a tear streaked face & red eyes.

"You did the best you could. Hell, you stitched up Sammy without anesthetics & had to hear him scream over the pain & your 11. Dean, don't you dare think this is your fault. And don't you dare think you let any of us down." He said.

Dean nodded slightly. He just couldn't let go of the fact that he'd lost his temper. He'd had one job - watch out for Sammy. He couldn't even do that right.

"Ok." he replied, wiping the tears away. He didn't deserve the tears or the sympathy. He didn't deserve any of it.

He was about to turn away when he remembered something.

"Caleb?" he said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"When…when dad pushed me against the wall & before I passed out…his eyes…they turned yellow." Dean said hesitantly, his voice breaking on the last word.

Caleb nodded, keeping his thoughts to himself, not wanting to put any more stress or pressure on Dean. "We'll figure this out, kiddo. Alright?" he said, standing up. He ruffled Dean's hair lightly. "You want some breakfast?" he asked.

Dean nodded solemnly. "Yeah, sure."

* * *

Rumbles of thunder made the house tremble as Caleb walked upstairs. The lightning wasn't striking as hard as it had been a few days ago, but it was damn near close. He grimaced as a roar of thunder shuttered the pictures on the wall.

"Jim, it's happening again." Caleb said, walking into Jim's study. Jim was sitting at the desk, papers & files strewn every which way. "What's happening again?" he said without looking up from his research on the demon.

"Dean said John's eyes turned yellow the other night. I thought the hallucinations had stopped.." he said, sighing.

Jim smiled up at Caleb. Caleb quirked an eyebrow in confusion.

"I got it." he said. Caleb was lost. He kept his gaze of confusion the same on Jim.

"I got the demon's path." he said, this time smiling wider. Caleb raised his eyebrows. "You mean you can track it?" he asked in disbelief.

Jim kept the smile in place but it faltered a bit. "Well, I can track it if these signs keep appearing." he said, picking up the scrawled on papers & sighing. "But I haven't seen any recent signals, which means we can't track him, at least not now."

"Well, at least we got something." Caleb replied. "What are the signs anyway?" he asked. He wanted to know if he could look for anything specific to come.

"Crop failure, electrical storms. Just small but very meaningful stuff." He said.

Caleb nodded. "Now to crop failure, seeing as this storm stuff is pretty damn sure of." he chuckled.

Jim chuckled & shut his notebook he was writing in. "Then I'll be back in a few minutes & see if anyone has seen anything about crop failure." With that, Jim walked out of the study & past Caleb, slapping Caleb lightly on the back as he went.

At least they were getting somewhere with the demon.

* * *

Dean sat at the table, playing with his breakfast. Caleb had made him French toast. Even though Dean was starving, he didn't have an appetite. He was worried about what had happened the night before after he passed out & if Sammy was involved. He watched the dark clouds rolling over the house as he chopped the bread into tiny pieces.

A crack of thunder vibrated the window slightly & Dean jumped, the sudden interruption in quietness startling him. He dropped his fork & it dropped on his plate, making a high ting sound, startling him again.

He closed his eyes & took deep breaths, trying to calm himself. "It's only thunder, it's only a plate, calm down." he whispered to himself.

"Dean?" he heard the small voice say. He opened his eyes immediately & looked at where the sad voice came from. Sam was standing in the hall way, clutching his blanket tightly to his chest with tears rolling down his face.

Dean got up & walked over to Sam slowly. He bent down & opened his arms for Sam, the younger brother shuffling into his arms immediately. He picked Sam up & carried him over to the table where his breakfast was. Sam had buried his head into Dean's shoulder & was openly crying.

Dean sat down at the table & set Sam on his leg, ignoring the pain that Sam's weight put on it. "Sammy.." he whispered, not knowing where to start with words. Sam just cried more at Dean's voice.

"Sammy, you gotta tell me what's really wrong. Can you do that for me?" he asked softly. He rubbed Sam's back comfortingly, trying to calm his brother down. Sam sniffled a few times before looking at Dean.

"My head hurts." he whimpered, burying his face back into Dean's shoulder. Dean kicked himself for not noticing. How could I forget about his damn head?

He stood, carefully picking Sam up again. He slowly made his way into the living room then into the bathroom. He dug through the cabinet for Tylenol. Of all the prescription drugs & OTC drugs they had, Dean was damn sure they'd have Tylenol. But to his astonishment, there was none.

He sighed. "Damnit.." he muttered.

He shut the light off & headed back toward the kitchen. He looked up the stairs. Caleb had to be upstairs, seeing as he was nowhere to be found downstairs. "Caleb?" he said loudly. He watched as Caleb came into view a few seconds later. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Sammy's head hurts & we don't have anything for it." he said. Caleb looked down at Sammy sympathetically. From what he understood, Sam had gone to hell & back with stitching. He sighed & pulled out his phone.

Dean watched as Caleb pulled out his phone & dialed quickly. He gave Caleb a confused look but Caleb only put up a finger, indicating for Dean to wait patiently. Dean sighed, the trembling little body in his arms only trembling worse every second.

"Jim. Grab some Tylenol on the way back from town, would ya? Sam's got a pretty bad headache." he said, keeping his finger up. "Alright, whatever you do, hurry up." he said, hanging up. Caleb put his phone back in his pocket & walked down the stairs.

"He said he'd be back within 10 minutes." he sighed as he saw the worried look on Dean's face. He put a hand on Sammy's back. "You had anything to eat yet?" he asked Dean quietly. Dean shook his head, knowing he was lying through his teeth.

"Sammy hasn't." he responded quietly.

He didn't care that he wasn't eating, didn't care that his father was gone, didn't care that everyone was worried about him.

All he knew was that something felt…_wrong_.


	12. Chapter 12

The rest of the day had been pretty much a touch-and-go for the hunters. Jim, as promised, was back within the window of time he had said, making Sam take the colored pills, promising Sam that he would repay him by taking him to the library for a different book. The kid was easy to bribe, if you knew him, that is.

"Dean, why don't you get some rest yourself?" a voice from behind Dean spoke.

Dean had been by Sam's side ever since he had drifted off to sleep a few hours ago, dark circles & blood shot eyes from lack of rest. He couldn't help but think that Sam was going to have another nightmare that would scare him out of his wits, or even be like the last one. He shuddered, thinking of the night that this disaster had all started. He turned around in the chair he was sitting in, glancing at Caleb once then turning back around.

"'m not tired." he muttered just loud enough for the elder hunter to hear. Caleb stood in the door frame for a moment, contemplating on what to do. He could leave Dean to look after Sammy, but that wouldn't do Dean's mental & physical health at all better. Or he could get Dean to rest for a few hours. He picked the second choice, strolling into the room. He took the leg of the chair & silently slid the chair to face him, Dean's face showing no caring at all. Caleb sat on the edge of Dean's bed, which had been next to Sammy's.

"You need rest." Caleb said, eyeing Dean seriously.

"Rest is overrated." Dean muttered, his eyes going closed slowly & opening as they closed. Caleb couldn't help but think that Dean was right, chuckling to himself but coughed into his hand before speaking.

"Sammy would be upset if he knew you were depriving yourself of sleep to watch him sleep, don't ya think?" Caleb considered. He knew the only way to get Dean to agree was to bring Sam's sadness or anger into the equation.

Dean considered this for a moment, knowing that Caleb was right. Hell, the kid got upset when Dean tried to help him get up after wrecking his bike.

Dean sighed slowly, pushing the chair back. He pushed silently past Caleb & faced toward the door, lying on his side. To be honest with himself, Dean was terrified. The man had haunted him every time he had closed his eyes for a longer period of time. More than that, he was worried. He hated sleeping when he knew his baby brother, at any moment, could end up like he had not even a few weeks ago. He shuddered slightly.

Caleb watched Dean roll onto his side & saw the slight shiver go through Dean, clearly noticeable. He set his hand on Dean's shoulder, turning at a 90 degree angle on the bed.

"I won't let him get you." Caleb said softly, rubbing a line onto the younger boys shoulder in comfort.

_Damn, he's good_, Dean thought, but nodded. He had never really voiced his fears to Caleb, but Caleb knew Dean like an open book.

Caleb patted Dean's shoulder one final time & got up, silently puttering to the door. Once he was to the door frame, he turned his head, checking on both of the boys. He smiled, satisfied at seeing Dean's eyes shut & hearing soft snoring. He walked out of the room, not knowing what Azazel had in store for the boys.

_It was cold, dark, and suffocating. The first thing he noticed was that he was on a cot, his arms & legs chained to the poles of the cot. Dean was shivering violently as he stirred, but he was no longer in his warm, comforting bed. No, he was somewhere else._

* * *

_Dean lied, pretending to be unconscious as he silently prayed to be back in his & Sammy's room. **Sammy**. Dean's eyes snapped open, half expecting to find his baby brother, half expecting to see the fiery yellow eyes. What he didn't expect was utter & complete silence along with abandonment. There was no signs of life anywhere in the room. The room was like a chamber, really. The door was locked & bolted shut like a safe._

_He shivered again, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as the door creaked & began to shudder, signaling an entry. The big dial-like wheel turned & the door slowly creaked open. Dean's breathe hitched when he saw the tall, gangly, yellow-eyed man, but even worse than that was Sammy, in the man's arms, shaking violently with fear. Dean ignored everything & began to shout._

_"You son of a bitch, let him go!" he shouted at the man. He pulled against the restraints but it did no good. He was trapped. Sam was now crying, but no noise eliciting from his mouth._

_"Well, at least the brat finally shut up after a few hits." The man snarled back. Dean squinted to make out the tiny form that was Sam & saw what he had meant. On his brother's face, there were tiny bruises around his eyes, leading to a huge black eye & many cuts on his right eye. Dean pulled again, his wrists screaming in protest. "Ah, Dean, stop trying. I just came to visit you & let you two say your goodbyes." the man with the fiery yellow eyes laughed. Dean furrowed his brow in confusion._

_"W-wh-what-?" he stuttered but was interrupted. "Sammy is my child now, Dean. And there's nothing you can do. Because now I've got him & he's going to be my king." He laughed menacingly. Dean stared in shock as the man & Sammy had disappeared. He stared at the now empty space that held the demon & his brother seconds ago._

_A single tear fell down the elder boys face as he felt instant darkness sweep over him, taking him back to the real world._

* * *

Dean woke with a start, his face clammy from sweat, sweat lining every inch of his body. He put his head in his hands, wiping his eyes, forcing himself not to cry. That's not what Winchesters were supposed to do, especially not Dean. After a while of calming himself, he came to realization of his nightmare & everything began to come clear. He looked over to his brother's bed.

But Sammy was gone.


	13. Epilogue

_It was a few minutes before midnight in the middle of an empty ghost town. Dean ran, his breathe coming out in gasps as he pushed himself to pick up his pace. He couldn't escape. Sammy's mine. He's going to be my king, Dean. The cruel voice echoed off of the streets & buildings around him. He looked back, trying to find where the man had went but saw nothing. He sped up, fear written across his face. Shock set in as he tripped on his own feet, falling on his stomach with a smack. He groaned, rolling around of the wet pavement of the road. Staring at the sky, his let out a yell. "SAMMY!" He yelled, choking at the end on a broken sob. "SAM!"_

Dean woke with a start, gasping. He was covered in sweat & his breathe came out faster than his liking, the pressure making it hard to breathe. He stared at the crusty ceiling of the crappy motel room he has rented for the week, the peeling of the wallpaper suddenly becoming interesting. Dean let out a few slow breaths, calming himself down.

Dean ran his hand through his always short cropped hair. The seventeen year old had been having nightmares for ages since Sammy went missing.

He groaned as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, sore from the previous night of being thrown around by the spirit. Thankfully, he had salted & burned the bones after the he shot the bastard with rock salt as a diversion.

He reached down toward his feet, feeling for the glass of the all too familiar Jack Daniels bottle. He felt relief as his hands grazed the bottle, wrapping his palm around the glass. He lifted the bottle to his height, unscrewing the cap of his only mental frustration relief. He put the bottle to his lips and sipped the stale liquid. He let out a groan as he removed the bottle, letting the first few drops set in.

After a few moments, he brought the bottle to his lips again, taking a large gulp of the liquid, his eyes already bleary. After a few more gulps, the screwed the cap back on, setting the bottle by his feet again. He put both hands on either side of the edge of his bed, hanging his head.

He raised his eyes, looking at the picture that sat on his nightstand every night as he fingered the cool surface of his amulet. The picture was of Sam, his father, and himself when they went on a fishing trip a few summers after their mother had died.

He hung his head in shame. He had failed at his only task.

God knew he wouldn't ever forgive himself.

* * *

"Dean, we've looked everywhere. I just…I don't think that we're gonna find him.." Jim said lightly to the 11 year old. It had been a few months since the disappearance. John had left again, furious at Dean for letting this happen. Dean had spent most of his time researching but digging up nothing.

Dean stood at the door frame, furious. Furious at the man who kidnapped Sam, furious at Caleb & Jim wanting to give in so early, furious at himself for failing to take care of Sam. He had never chose this life & definitely never wanted this life for Sammy.

He stormed out of the room, running down the hall to his & Sam's room. Jim watched in awe as Dean disappeared. He went after him.

Dean slammed the door shut, locking it, hearing footsteps following him. He took out his duffel, jamming clothes into it. He heard a soft knock at the door. "Go away." he growled. He didn't need, want, nor deserve the sympathy that people tried to give him.

He set a chair under the doorknob, ensuring that Jim would for sure not be able to get in. Caleb was at the store and he only hoped he was gone long enough to let Dean get a chance to get away. He stuffed Sam's belongings in his bag with him, along with a school picture of Sam & a childhood picture from Summer when John took them fishing.

He zipped his bag furiously & slung it around his shoulder. He reached into his pocket, grabbing his phone. He looked at it for a seconds before setting it on the ground. With all his might, he brought his foot down on it, smashing it into pieces. He knew Caleb would track his phone as soon as he left, thinking ahead.

He wretched open his window, ducking his head as he went out the window, climbing down the side of the house. As soon as he was to the ground, he glanced around him for anyone who might be able to stop him and smirked when he saw none. He went out to the drive way, spotting the Impala, surprised that dad hadn't taken it with him but shrugged. He got in, hotwiring the car. It wasn't his first time having to do it, so it was a breeze.

He didn't know where he was going, but anywhere else but here was good enough for him.

* * *

"Another one, sweetheart?" Dean slurred at the busty female bartender. He had already had over 10 shots & a few beers. He didn't know what else to do but drink his sorrows away. The bartender, smirked, filling another shot glass.

Dean loved the bar he went to because no one around him had ever talked to him. They knew his brother had disappeared due to people talking. Occasionally, he had gotten into bar fights over stupid things, fifty percent of the time getting the upper hand.

As he finished his shot, he slammed the glass down, swallowing loudly. The guy next to him glanced at Dean with a sneer. He would pretty young, about Dean's age. Dean wasn't exactly sure how he had gotten into a bar at his age, but Dean had a fake ID, allowing him to. He wondered how that kid had gotten in.

The kid sneered at Dean and looked away as if disgusted by the view. "Hey, jackass, you got a problem?" he slurred, getting up from his seat. The kid whipped his head around. He sneered with a smirk again. "Just go home, drunk ass. Don't wanna be like that brother of yours, do ya?" he said in a low voice.

Dean's anger flared, the mention of Sammy making him furious. He swung his fist blindly, feeling the crack of bone as his fist connected with the kid's nose. He sneered at the kid in anticipation. "Don't you dare talk about my brother like that, you bastard." he muttered in anger.

The kid was on his knees, holding his nose. Dean walked from the bar, everyone staring at him as he strode out the door. He heard mutters about him being a freak show but didn't care. He stormed out of the bar.

He went out to the Impala, getting in and slamming the door shut. After sitting there for a while, he sighed and patted the dash. "Sorry, baby. Rough night." he grumbled. The Impala had really become the only thing that Dean could talk to or trust anymore.

He rested his arms on the wheel, putting his head on his arms. He let out a frustrated sigh, tears starting to fall from his eyes. "Sammy.." Dean whispered, his voice breaking.

He had lost everything.

**END.**

**Author's Note; I know, i know. Very cruel ending. But i am thinking of doing a sequel to this. Would anyone like me to do one? Because i do have some pretty good ideas but i'm not so sure about it yet. **

**Anyways, thank you so much for reading. I know it took me months to finish and i'm glad you guys stuck with it.**


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